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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23983756">In Her Skies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryEyedSapphic/pseuds/StarryEyedSapphic'>StarryEyedSapphic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Worst Witch (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/F, Fluff, Multi, Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:49:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,328</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23983756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryEyedSapphic/pseuds/StarryEyedSapphic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If you’ve ever seen a falling star, you know exactly what it looked like. </p><p>What is the difference between a falling star and a shooting star? Perhaps they are one in the same.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Drill/Hardbroom (Worst Witch), Hardbroom/Pentangle (Worst Witch)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In Her Skies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day started like any other day. The window, which was opened exactly two inches, let in the peaceful chatter of the birds in the willow just outside. The gentle morning breeze caressed the pale cheek of the languid witch, whispering in her ear and delicately inviting her once again to the waking world of light and breath and chilly spring air. </p><p>Hecate stirred as her eyes fluttered open. As she awoke, she looked out the window for a long time, admiring how the vines of the weeping willow swayed as if dancing to nature’s harmonious music. </p><p>She noted how clear the sky was. There was not a single cloud in sight.</p><p>Peaceful. How powerful nature is… but how so very peaceful.</p><p>Before rising, the witch flicked her long fingers and magicked a cup of tea to her bedside. The liquid was golden, with a single chamomile flower floating on top. A relaxing yet practical way to start the day, she thought. Her hair was long and spilling over her shoulders like a cascade of black silk. The aroma from the gentle tea was enough to will her from her bed. This morning ritual was the one moment of the day that Hecate Hardbroom dedicated to herself. Anymore, it would be a frivolous and vein waste of her time. Any less, and surely she would not have the strength to face the inevitable shenanigans of the impending day; the strength to face one particular student who was sure to grace everyone’s presence with her sloppy braids and her tie all askew.</p><p>The moment the witch’s feet met the chilly floor, she waved her hand and her makeup was completely done and her hair, strand by strand, braided and tied itself into a perfectly tight bun atop her head. After this, she reached for the tea and when her ruby lips met the white teacup, they did not leave behind a single trace of a red stain. She smiled at herself as she thought of the charm she formulated years ago that made her lipstick practically unsmudgable. Nothing could remove it from the soft and perfect lips it laid upon. Even when Julie Hubble was employed at the school, she remarked—almost every morning— on the lack of red residue left behind as the deputy head perched at breakfast, taking precious delicate sips of her green slimeade. </p><p>The mistress smirked and scoffed at the thought, both delighted and peeved by the remembrance of this blonde and obscenely quirky ordinary. As much as Miss Hubble’s presence annoyed the rigid witch, there still remained a fondness in Hecate’s heart for the loyal and bubbly woman.</p><p>Hecate shook her head at the memory as she set the cup of steaming tea upon her nightstand. Then, she snapped her fingers and in an instant, her leather nightgown was replaced with a black dress that covered her from neck to toe. She grew several inches as well, when her heeled boots magically appeared on her feet. She popped her collar, and without even glancing at herself in her vanity mirror (as she trusted she looked… efficient…) she transferred to the dining hall where it was all abuzz with clattering glasses and chattering girls. </p><p>Hecate was greeted with an approving grin and nod from her Head Mistress. This was an occurrence that happened every morning, and Hecate always returned the gesture with a fleeting yet sincere smile. </p><p>It seemed to be a typical start to a typical day at Cackle’s.</p><p>Until Hecate noticed the empty chair across from her. </p><p>As Ada signaled to the staff and students that it was time to be seated for breakfast, Hecate glanced around nervously for the missing witch, who would have usually thrown about a snarky comment or two by then. Something along the lines of “Who crumbled your cauldron, HB?” Or, upon Hecate’s arrival, “Is it just me or does it suddenly seem darker in here?”</p><p>But there had been none of that.</p><p>“Ada,” Hecate whispered to the witch beside her, who was dressed in her usual pink fuzzy cardigan.  “Where is Miss Drill?”</p><p>“Oh, Hecate,” returned Ada, a sweet and endearing smile still spread across her face as she nodded a ‘good morning’ to various young witches around the room. “Don’t you remember? Today is the Great Flying Games. And Cackle’s has the honor of hosting this year.”</p><p>Hecate felt her face grow as hot as a bubbling cauldron. No one had notified her of such an event. Cackle’s was to host one of the biggest witching games of the year, and not a single soul remembered to tell the Deputy Headmistress of the school. Her stomach twisted as she tried not to completely combust. </p><p>“What?” She hissed, her lips pursing and her body trembling with rage. The fork in her hand was shaking so wildly that the bite that was on it retreated eagerly back to the plate. “We are to host the Great Flying Games? And no one thought to tell me?”</p><p>“Oh but they did, Hecate,” the older witch remained cool and calm, having been privy to these outbursts. “Dimity had mentioned it at the staff meeting two weeks ago. You were there, and I knew you had been distracted… But I fear I may have underestimated just how distracted you were.” </p><p>Hecate felt the anger rush out of her body as it was immediately chased away by embarrassment. She looked down at her plate as her eyebrows furrowed. She felt her head pulsing as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Ada saw this and placed a hand lovingly yet discreetly on Hecate’s knee beneath the table. “It’s alright, Hecate. Miss Drill is the captain of this ship, so you have nothing to worry about. For once.” </p><p>Hecate looked up at Ada, trying with all her might to muster a smile. Ada winked in response and with that, returned tentatively to her meal.</p><p>Worry grew within Hecate’s eyes and heart. She was not used to not knowing everything. She was not used to not spearheading every event, obsessing over and controlling even the tiniest details.</p><p>“But,” she thought as she gazed at the empty chair across from her, “there is a… first… for… everything…”</p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>The sun was blinding when Hecate went outside, and the cool spring air had exchanged itself for summer heat. She tugged at the collar of her dress as she felt her neck grow damp with sweat.</p><p>She was overwhelmed by the courtyard which was decorated with banners and littered with witches of all ages she had never seen before. She froze when she saw a uniform clearly belonging to Pentangle’s. She hadn’t even considered the idea that Pippa would turn up— but as soon as she had this thought, she heard her name spoken behind her in a way that was as sweet as the lavender scent on the warm breeze.</p><p>“Pippa,” said Hecate, unable to move. Her eyebrows were as high as the sun in the sky, and her face was just as hot. Her lips curled as she tried to hide her anxiety with a smile.</p><p>“Isn’t this just wonderful?” Pippa beamed, with arms wide open as if she was expecting a hug. Not a single bead of sweat dripped from her smooth, sun-kissed skin. Everything about the woman was seemingly perfect. Hecate wanted to hide away like a turtle in a shell.</p><p>“Yes. Quite,” returned Hecate, still and straight as a broomstick. Pippa squeezed her and it was all Hecate could do to keep from letting out a cry of pain and embarrassment. She had never forgotten those notoriously bone-crushing hugs from Pippa Pentangle. She used to be known for them, herself, once. But that was then. And this… is now.</p><p>“When Dimity asked me to help her with the decorating, I just couldn’t say no. What do you think?”</p><p>Hecate felt her whole body vibrate at the mention of Miss Drill’s name on Pippa Pentangle’s lips. Was this… jealousy?</p><p>“Nonsense!” Hecate uttered, unaware that she had just spoken aloud.</p><p>She saw Pippa’s smile fade away and realized what she had just done.</p><p>“I— mean— the decorations are… quite… efficient— I mean… you and Miss Drill did… an...excellent… job.”</p><p>“I’m glad you like it,” Pippa said, this time with a twinge of confusion in her voice. </p><p>Hecate was desperate to flee the situation. The sight of Pippa was enough to shoot her to the skies, but it was also too much… so much so that her presence alone could make her come crashing back down to earth again.</p><p>“I— must…” Hecate searched for any excuse to leave so she could be alone once again. So she could find her missing pride.</p><p>“—I must… find Miss Drill and ask her how I may be of assistance. Please… enjoy the… facilities.” </p><p>Before Pippa could reply, and before Hecate could kick herself for her awkward choice of wording, the witch vanished in a cloud of black smoke and found herself in the middle of the woods somewhere on the grounds of Cackle’s.</p><p>This happened regularly. Hecate would be so desperate to leave a situation, she would transfer away with no place in mind to go. She would find herself in random places on the grounds of Cackle’s… and though she sometimes could not recognize her whereabouts, she was simply content not to be drowning in her own scrutiny or embarrassment or rage.</p><p>“HB?” </p><p>Hecate heard a familiar voice say her name off in the distance. The witch it belonged to was out of breath and limping ungracefully among the brush.</p><p>Hecate was both relieved and annoyed at the presence of yet another being in her vicinity.</p><p>“Ah, yes. I was just going to inquire how I may be of service to—“</p><p>“Oh, HB. Can we put all the formalities away for a day?” Dimity Drill was wearing a tracksuit Hecate had never seen before. It was flashy, and there was a giant golden star sewn on the upper left sleeve. She was also carrying the broomstick— now a bit out-dated— that won her the title of “Star of the Sky” all of those years ago.</p><p>“Miss Drill, I…” Before Hecate could finish, Dimity was beside her, giving her a hearty pat on the back. “Beautiful day for flying, eh, HB?”</p><p>Hecate was shocked at the feeling of Dimity’s hand on her back. But she put her emotions to one side, as there seemed to be more pressing matters at hand.</p><p>“And what… may I ask… are you planning to do with… that,” Hecate gestured to the broomstick Dimity proudly held in her hands.</p><p>Dimity slowly turned her head to Hecate, raising an eyebrow as the sarcasm bubbled up inside and exploded on her face. “Fly, of course. What else is a witch to do with a broomstick?”</p><p>“Miss. Drill.” Hecate was suddenly very stern. “Do you mean to tell me you will be attempting to fly today?”</p><p>“Not just fly, HB. I was planning on opening The Games with some simple tricks. Get the young ones all intimidated and riled up, eh?” Dimity nudged Hecate with her elbow, a dare-devilish grin spread wide on her face.</p><p>Hecate made a mental note every time one of Dimity’s body parts made contact with her own. She shook her head, trying to stay focused on the matter at hand. Her eyes narrowed.</p><p>“Miss… Drill… you should not fly on account of your… injury.” </p><p>Dimity almost laughed at the very way the word ‘injury’ rolled off of Hecate’s tongue. She also found herself staring a little too long at the taller witch’s elderberry-red lips as they did so.</p><p>Hecate noted that, as well.</p><p>“Why not?” Dimity said playfully. Defiant would not be the word to describe the peculiar mood she was in.</p><p>“I…” Hecate Hardbroom had never been one for reading social cues or body language, as cunning as she was. But Dimity’s were loud and clear. Hecate swallowed and shifted, feeling her breath growing irregular and shallow. </p><p>This was Dimity’s game, and Hecate was merely a player. </p><p>Hecate could never tell if it was to spite her— for Dimity to be amused over seeing her all hot and bothered… well, mostly bothered… or if these exchanges were true moments of intrigue… of… fascination… or… flirtation. </p><p>‘It could never be that,’ a voice whispered in the back of Hecate’s mind.</p><p>Back to business. </p><p>“Miss Drill. Did you inform Miss Cackle of these… plans?”</p><p>Dimity took a sudden step away from Hecate. She must have sensed the change in Hecate’s demeanor. She even looked slightly… disappointed.</p><p>Hecate dug her nail into her palm to stop herself from these obscene interpretations. Surely Miss Drill was simply being Miss Drill, and Hecate was simply reading too much into the situation. Who would even think about seeing her in that light, anyway? No one.</p><p>Hecate grew more distant and stoic as the thought surfaced within her. </p><p>“Oh, HB. What fun is life without surprises?”</p><p>And with that, Dimity was off on her broomstick, winding through the trees at warp-speed. </p><p>The abruptness and wind produced from her hastiness knocked Hecate off her balance. Much to her own surprise, she found herself desperately calling after the witch. </p><p>“Miss Drill! Wait! Your injury, it isn’t safe!”</p><p>Hecate looked around in shock. </p><p>Before she could make the decision to transfer directly to Ada’s office, she jumped. In the blink of an eye, the rebellious witch was by her side, on her broomstick, her mouth inches away from her ear.</p><p>“What do you care?” Whispered Dimity, who then once again flew off like a rocket, her figure fading rapidly until it was just out of sight.</p><p>Hecate exhaled sharply, her hand in the air as she made to transfer… to tell Ada of the impending disaster that was sure to take place. But instead, she found herself trembling and unable to leave the woods. </p><p>Dimity’s words echoed mercilessly in her ear.</p>
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